Country Girl at Heart: Part 4
by bowlingstar11
Summary: Cowgirl Arizona Robbins and Head of Ortho hot shot Callie Torres are back. It's a few years down the road and they're still happily in love. Follow as they take on the rest of their lives together. What's in store for them? Who knows. The only question that matters is are they strong enough to face life's challenges head on together? Or is love not enough sometimes? AU!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: It's back! Yep. Your favorite cowgirl is back. Strap on them seatbelts :-p As always, I don't have a real defined direction I'm taking this fic except to just explore the rest of Arizona and Callie's lives together. I can't promise daily updates, but I will do my best to keep you all satisfied with regular cowgirl goodness. So, without further ado… Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

Callie's POV:

I wake with a start. It takes me a moment to realize just where I am. Despite our drawn curtains, the bright Seattle sun makes itself known by searing the outer layer of my corneas. And somewhere between me crawling in bed next to my sleeping wife and now I've managed to cross more than half the mattress to end up on Arizona's side. Only there's no Arizona anymore and instead I find my arms clutching her coconut vanilla shampoo scented pillow.

I stretch high above my head then curl back up into my warm cocoon, more than content to spend another couple hours in my coconut-vanillay heaven. But then the sound of pots and pans clanging about comes from downstairs, and I remember that sleeping in isn't an option today. It's a battle to extricate myself from bed, but I finally manage it. And so the day begins.

Once downstairs, I trudge through the empty living room, which is currently the cleanest it's been in a long time, and find the kitchen. And, as expected, I find a blonde busy behind the stovetop as the sound of bacon frying away crackles through the air.

She peeks over her shoulder at the sound of a floorboard creaking beneath my feet, and those blue eyes shine.

"Morning, darling."

"Morning, Momma B," I reply haggardly. My voice is still thick from sleep, and I'm sure I look twice as rough as I feel.

"Didn't hear you come in last night." Barbara pours me a cup of fresh coffee, with added cream and sugar to counteract the strength of her brew, and slides it across the kitchen island for me.

"You mean this morning?" I chuckle. "I'm sorry I missed dinner, but work was… ugh- rough. And my patient kept trying to die on me. It was so annoying. But I'm glad I didn't wake you, Barbara."

"Oh, hon," She says. "I slept next to a human buzzsaw for over 30 years. It'd take a stick of dynamite going off and Wyle E. Coyote racing down the center of my bed to even faze me. Must be where that youngin of yours gets it from. I swear that girl could sleep through a tornado."

"Pretty much." I take a sip of coffee and a small moan of pleasure slips from my lips. "Ahhh, sweet necter of the gods." I groan, making Barbara chuckle. "You should probably but another pot on because I'm going to need a mainline of this stuff to stay awake today. …Speaking of, where is-"

"Your girls are out back," Barbara says with a wink.

I thank her and leave my coffee to cool a bit while I step into some shoes and grab a jacket before going outside. It's late May and spring time in Seattle is a beautiful season; cool and crisp in the morning then warming slightly mid day before the night comes, bringing the need for cozy blankets and cuddling buddies. So my trek across dewy grass is invigorating. I can almost feel the stale hospital air leaving my system and being replaced with pure sunshine.

It's a good long walk before I finally find my family, and when I do I just have to smile. What I see when I arrive is my gorgeous wife, reigns in hand, leading our bright, brilliant and vivacious four year old around the riding ring atop her steed.

Four years old. It seems like just the other day that Ali was turning one, with her party and all our family and friends visiting. Time as flown by. Happily. Sure, there have been a few rough patches, a few heated fights. Disagreements. Nights either Arizona or myself spent on the couch. But that's marriage. That's what making a life together means. Because, through it all, there's no one else in the world I'd rather be fighting with, and making up with. Just… w_ith._ She's perfect.

And our daughter? Just like her Momma. Perfect. Four years old and starting Kindergarten in the fall. A little early, I know. But she's been tested, and she's ready. And of course Arizona tells me it's all because of the awesome person who watched Ali while _someone_ (me) was out earning the dough. But I can't really fight her on that because she's right. When I think back to before Ali, before my pregnancy, even before we were married, to all the times Arizona said she wasn't cut out to be a mom… I laugh. Because she's amazing at it. When she and Ali are together… nothing else matters. Our daughter may not have Arizona's blood pumping through her veins but that girl is 100% Robbins through and through. And I couldn't be happier about it because now I have two cowgirls that I love with all my heart instead of one.

"Hi Mommy!" Ali exclaims when she sees me leaning against the riding pens rails content to just watch the riding lesson that's going on. She's even decked out in all her cowgirl gear; boots, little plaid shirt under a camo vest just like the one my wife is wearing, and her helmet (which was the _one_ thing I demanded when it came to the 'Ali learning to ride' compromise that began about a year ago. And continued into many conversations. …Many, many conversations).

"Morning mija!" I shout back.

"Don't forget about Ariel." She says.

"Good morning, Ariel." I add. And I have a feeling the whinny Ali's very _male_ horse isn't a good morning in return. Yeah, that's right. But just try talking a three year old out of naming her new pony after her favorite Disney princess. Boy or girl, it was going to be Ariel.

Arizona guides palomino colored animal and it's rider around the pen once more then hands the reigns back to Ali. "Alright, squirt. Let's see ya take him for a spin solo." But the horse doesn't even notice the difference in handlers, and he continues on his slow, easy walk around the same path he has walked for a year.

And while our daughter rides, Arizona comes to stand next to me at the rails. "Hey, babe," she purrs. Our lips meet from opposite sides of the fence and I can still taste the spearmint tooth paste on her breath. "We missed you last night."

"I know. I'm sorry," I sigh.

She brushes a lock of hair back behind my ear that has escaped my messy bun then cups my cheek with her warm hand. I melt into her touch. It's like being back in bed again.

"You should get some more sleep, Calliope." Arizona whispers.

"No, really- I'll be fine, cowgirl. Besides, it's your big day! And we have guests. It wouldn't be polite if I were to sleep the whole time they're here."

"Guests?" Arizona plays. "My mother and your uncle aren't guests. They're family. Family doesn't count as guests. Family is…"

"Family?" I offer.

"Exactly." Arizona smiles. She glances back at our daughter and says, "You're doing great, Squirt. Now why don't you turn him around and go the other way."

We watch as our four year old pulls at the reigns of a beast about 20 times her size and turns him about. The smallest little kick of the heel of her boots and Ariel continues his leisurely morning stroll, now in a counter clockwise fashion.

Five minutes later Barbara sticks her head out the back door and gives a sharp whistle. Even from a hundred yards off Arizona and I hear it, and we know that breakfast is almost ready. My stomach growls in anticipation and I just know how hungry riding makes my two cowgirls so I hope that Barbara has made the works.

We aren't let down either, and within ten minutes all hands are washed and the kitchen table is set. Pancakes and eggs and bacon and sausages… It's all delicious. Arizona and Ali hungrily pour on rivers of syrup over their pancakes, and it's only a matter of minutes until our daughter becomes one big sticky mess.

In the years since Ali's one year birthday, Barbara and Jose' have continued on with their relationship. Arizona has grown… indifferent about it. She no longer sees my uncle as a snake that has slithered into her mother's life, and instead she chooses to focus on just how happy Jose' has made Barbara. They aren't married, and probably never will be if Barbara's word is a firm as ever. Momma B says she's done the marriage thing, and it was a very happy one, and as far as Jose' is concerned, he's just delighted to have someone to share a life with. Though that doesn't mean he hasn't stopped trying to get Barbara to change her mind.

But the hardest part about it all was the day Ali first called Jose' 'Grandpa'. It happened during a breakfast much like this one and everyone went quiet. Just the look on Arizona's face when she heard her daughter say that made my heart break. Because Ali will never know her real Grandpa, Arizona will never see her daughter sit on her father's lap. And even though it's been years since he's passed, Arizona misses him dearly. Her brother, too. With each passing day that Ali grows bigger, brighter, more energetic… is another day she'll never get to meet the two men who have meant the most to her Momma. And it hurts even more knowing there is nothing I can do to make it better.

But none of that heaviness weighs down this breakfast, and before long the pancakes have been murdered and the eggs have been inhaled. Ali happily recounts her morning out with Ariel, telling Jose for about the tenth time this trip that her pony is her best friend. And she doesn't understand why she can't bring him inside the house. After all, dogs and cats get to live inside. Why can't her pony do the same?

"Alright, kiddo," Arizona sighs. "Time to get cleaned up. Thank Grandma for breakfast."

"Thanks Grandma," The girl sings, hugging Barbara as tight as she can.

"You're welcome, my angel," Barbara replies. "Now go get that Ariel smell off you. You smell just like your Momma."

"Thanks," Arizona growls, which makes both Barbara and Ali giggle. "Come on, Squirt. Let's get you in that bath."

I try to help Barbara and Jose clean up but Momma B just shoos me off. That woman has a thing about cleaning. Hence the spotless living room? I swear, whenever she visits Arizona and myself, our home gets the deepest clean ever. And yet e_very _time she visits we tell her not to. It's her vacation, she's our guest. But every time she does it anyways… even though I've started hiding the cleaning supplies.

When I get upstairs and to our bedroom I find Arizona just peeling off the last syrup-fied piece of clothing from our daughter.

"Need any help in here?" I ask from the doorway to the bathroom.

"I don't know how she does it," Arizona says. "There is syrup everywhere. Everywhere!" Her fingers find the ticklish area under Ali's arms and a shrill squeal of delight bounces around the tiled room.

We get her in the bath and, of course, this is yet another play time for Ali. Time is ticking and suddenly our lazy morning has turned into crunch time. So while I scrub the syrup and horse stink from our little girl Arizona strips and takes her turn in the shower, and when she's done we tag out and switch places. By the time it's all finished our bathroom closer resembles a steam room than anything else.

Another two hours of drying, and combing, and drying some more, and getting a less than cooperative four year old in her dress, everyone is ready and accounted for. Momma B and Jose are wearing their Sunday best while I myself am in a black and crème colored dress that I know Arizona just loves on me. And the woman of the hour looks ravishing in her own little blue getup.

When we're on the road, I slide my hand over to the passenger's side and take Arizona's hand. "You nervous?" I ask.

"Ummm… no," Arizona replies, her fingers automatically using my hand as something to fidget with. "More anxious, I guess."

"You've done all the hard work, cowgirl." I tell her. "Now all you have to do is sit back and relax. …And try not to fall on your face."

"Gee, thanks for the advice," Arizona grumbles.

We arrive at the amphitheater, along with about a thousand people, and join the crowds flowing into the open aired park. Everywhere cameras are flashing and 'congratulations' are being said. White robes are donned and the atmosphere heightens with each passing minute.

"Why did they have to be white?" Arizona growls. "I look like a giant marshmallow." She holds out her arms and long white sleeves hang down like wings. …Which she decides to flap, in turn making our daughter giggle. Barbara just rolls her eyes. 37 years old and her daughter still acts like a four year old.

A voice comes over on the loud speaker, calling all graduates to their starting positions. And so I give my wife one last once over, and then I pull her in for a kiss. "I'm so proud of you, cowgirl." I whisper against her lips. It's been a long three, three and a half years. There were weeks where Arizona and I only saw each other in passing because of her responsibilities with school and her company, and my hours at the hospital. But we made it work. And now I get to watch Arizona achieve one of her biggest dreams; walking across a stage and receiving her diploma.

But, of course, we have to sit through about an hour of talking before anything else. And with an antsy, and sugar high, four year old it is difficult. Even I find my attention wandering more than once. And finally, after one last round of applause, the time comes. The first name is read. White robe after white robe crosses the erected platform and accept their diploma. Even from a distance I can make out my blonde, and as she nears her own name reading blue eyes turn to me. I wave, and she waves back as the line inches forward.

Three people away.

Two people away.

One person away.

Then, "Arizona Robbins."

And I watch as my cowgirl strides confidently across the stage in her marshmallow costume and accepts her degree. Even though we're not supposed to cheer for each individual, Barbara and I make sure to embarrass the blonde. I don't need to be standing next to Arizona to know her cheeks are bright red because of it. The affair lasts all of ten seconds, and before we know it 'Michael Rueger' is crossing the stage as well.

The ceremony wraps after all the Bachelor graduates have had their name read and have walked. Over all it lasts about three hours, and by the time we see Arizona again Ali has had about enough of sitting still and being quiet.

"Oh, honey!" Barbara cries as she wraps her daughter in a tight hug, nearly knocking her white mortarboard from the blonde's head. "I'm so proud of you. I always knew you'd do it."

"Thanks Momma," Arizona smiles. She's the first one in her family to have gone to college and graduated. Tim was taking courses during his time in the Marines but… he never got the chance to finish them.

"Alright, picture time. Now, how about a family shot, huh? You three girls." Barbara takes over the camera that Jose' had used to catch some action shots while Arizona lifts our growing girl up to her hip. And Ali decides her Momma's hat would look better on herself rather than Arizona.

Later that night, after Ali has been tucked in nice and tight and Barbara and Jose' have retired to their own rooms, it's just Arizona and I left downstairs. Some movie rerun is playing low on the TV, but what it is I couldn't say. The soft lub-dubbing of Arizona's heart beating fills my mind as we lay out across the couch, my head pillowed by her chest. Her fingers graze up and down my back, leaving patterns of goosebumps in their wake.

"Callie?" She whispers. It's more the vibration from her chest than her actual voice that stirs me from my half sleep.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," Arizona says.

"For what?"

"For… being so awesome," she says. I reposition my head to where I can look up at her and our eyes meet. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

"Yes, you would have," I reply. "Once you set your mind to something, Arizona, you don't quit. You're kinda stubborn that way."

"Oh so _I'm_ the stubborn one, huh?"

"Yep," I sigh. "It's one of the many things I love about you. Along with being hot, speaking Italian, and that you don't drink straight from the milk carton. …most of the time."

Arizona chuckles softly. "So that's it, huh? That's what sealed the deal for you. My ability to ninja sneak into the fridge."

"Mostly," I reply. "I mean, there's other stuff too. You know, being brilliant, hilarious, a fantastic lover…"

"Ahhh, those small, insignificant qualities."

"Exactly," I purr before kissing pink lips softly. "You know, I had the weirdest dream this morning."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You were in it, so was Tim." That catches Arizona by surprise and her brow furrows in the cute little way it does when she's trying to concentrate. "And I was- get this- married to Max."

It takes her a moment for her to place the name. "Max? …Max?! As in Miami douchebag Max?"

"The one and only."

"Wow… what the hell did you eat yesterday to get that craziness going on in your head?"

"That's not all, though. I was, uhh, Cardio, I think. And I had two kids. And then you showed up one day, all knight in shining armor like, and… well, you can guess."

"I swept the damsel in distress right off her feet?" Arizona teases.

"Something like that. I even dreamt you leapt off the second story balcony and into a pool just trying to get away from him. It was very brave of you. Very James Bond like… Then you went all Rambo on his ass and got arrested for it. When my dad bailed you out you called him an asshole." By now my wife is dying and I have to shush her to not wake the rest of the house up. "But it ended alright, I guess."

"And how's that?"

"We were together. We had our family. And we were happy."

Her laughter fades and a smile slowly crosses her lips. "Then that's all that matters," she whispers, then kisses the crown of my forehead.

We settle back in, trying once again to actually watch whatever movie is playing, but I can barely keep my eyes open. It's been a hellish week, and I'm exhausted. And being cuddled up with Arizona in the safety of our home is like being wrapped up in the most comfortable bed in the world. I don't last long, but as I fade out I hear the gentle roar of Arizona's lungs and those protective arms hold me close. And what's best? It's not a dream. This is my life. And I couldn't be more lucky.

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AN2: Ok peeps! You've been asking for it since CGAH3 ended. I'm counting on you guys to help me with ideas as to the trouble these two ladies and their family gets in to. I've got a couple that I'll be working into the mix, but please feel free to shoot me a PM, or get at me over on Tumblr. This fic is for all of you, so the more you give me the more you get back! Thanks for reading and I look forward to reading all of your lovely comments.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Another shot of cowgirl goodness for yall. Enjoy!

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Chapter 2

Arizona's POV:

"Now?"

"Hmmm… Looks a little fat to me. Roll it out some more," I say.

Two tiny hands grip either end of the rolling pin and a pink tongue peeks out from between two lips as Ali goes to work. Flour has somehow managed to make its way into her long, black locks, as well as coat the entire front of her little apron. But the four year old doesn't seem to care about the growing mess around her, and Ali continues to flatten out her pizza crust.

"Come on, Squirt. Put some muscle into it." My hands cover hers and as a team we roll out the dough together. "There it is. Perfect. Just how Mommy likes it."

"Perfect!" She chirps. "Can I do anoder?"

"I don't know…" I sigh. "Two pizzas? Are we hungry enough for two pizzas?" A cloud of flour billows up around her as she nods her head an enthusiastic yes. "Well alright then. Let's get to work."

And because my daughter loves to do things on her own, I stand back and let the girl work. It's very entertaining to watch a four year old interact with flour. And sticky dough. All the while I remain close by to manage the situation.

"What kind do you think we should make?" I ask.

"Umm…" Ali hums in that way little girls do. "Pepperoni."

"Definitely pepperoni," I reply. "And the other one? We can't have _two _pepperonis or else we'd might as well have made one giant pizza."

"Macawooni and cheese!"

"What?! There's no such thing and macaroni and cheese pizza, ya goofball."

"Yeah-huh. I ate it with Henry one time," Ali insists, all but forgetting the pizza crust and now thoroughly focused on this very important decision of ours.

But our very intense conversation over unconventional pizza toppings is interrupted by the sound of keys at the door. And like the flip of a switch, Ali's attention is diverted. I help her down off the chair she was standing on to reach the counter, and tiny little feet make a beeline out the kitchen, through the living room, and to the front door. …Carrying traces of flour all the way.

"Mommy!" I hear Ali yelp in excitement.

"There's my baby girl," Callie coos. "How are ya, huh? Oh, I missed you today."

"Come see what me and Momma are making." Ali pulls Callie through the living room, not allowing the woman to set down her bags along the way, and into the kitchen. "See Mommy?"

"Yes, I see." Callie smiles. "If you two were trying to make a mess of the kitchen then you guys did a fantastic job." Brown eyes track about the kitchen island, now like a desert of white flour, and across the floor now littered with flour foot prints.

When her gaze drifts upwards to the ceiling, I say, "Uh yeah… that was me."

"You?" Callie smirks.

"Yeah, well… I was trying to uhh-" I mimic tossing dough in the air "-and, well… it didn't turn out too good." I try not to smile but thanks to my less than smooth accomplice's giggling my façade fractures.

"The pizza fell on Momma's head," Ali adds.

I turn to her with a shocked face. "That was supposed to be our secret!" But again, Ali just giggles.

"Well, I needed to mop the ceiling anyway," Callie mumbles. A warm hand finds the small of my back and soft lips press against mine. "Hey," she whispers. "I kinda like this 'you being home on a Wednesday night' thing."

"Me too."

During the years I was attending college downtown, Callie and I were forced to compromise. Even before Alijandra was born, I swore that she would _not_ be raised by 'the help'. She wouldn't be handed off to a nanny or babysitter, and she wouldn't be stuck in daycare for days and days on end. I didn't want to raise my daughter that way, and Callie, who grew up with nannies instead of a nurturing mother, agreed. But then I got into school. I could no longer stay home every day and watch Ali, so Callie started taking her to daycare. And we started to fall into the pattern we swore we'd never do. Ultimately we found a way to make it work. Callie altered her work schedule to where she'd have Sunday's and Monday's off, and work Tuesday to Saturday. My class schedule was Monday's to Thursdays, leaving me with Friday's off as well as the weekend; meaning Ali was in daycare no more than three days a week. But that also meant that we, as a family, only had one day together. Sunday.

That's how it was for three years. And, God bless her, Callie went with it. There were times whem I really thought she'd say she'd have enough. Frankly I wouldn't have blamed her. I missed her. We slept in the same bed every night and yet it felt like we never saw one another. Those Sundays together were great, but they never lasted long enough. And those six days separating Sunday from Sunday always went on way too long.

But we made it. I have proof of it hanging on the wall in my den. And now? Now I don't miss dinners anymore.

After some more debating and compromising, our two pizzas go into the oven; one pepperoni and one half cheese half Hawaiian. While they cook Callie and I attempt to clean up the kitchen, with our daughter's help of course. But, as with most four year olds, she haven't really grasped the concept of cleaning and instead she just spreads the flour around. Finally we just shake her off and send her out into the living room to play by herself, and Ali is more than happy with that arrangement.

Dinner is delicious, of course, and very soon there are three full and happy bellies. The rest of the evening seems to speed by and before I know it I am carrying a sleepy four year old up the stairs. Her head dips and sways as I walk and her tiny hands clutch at the front of my shirt. Thankful that we've already gotten her changed into her pjs, it takes little effort to get her into bed. Once she's tucked beneath her purple sheets, Ali's eyes can hardly stay open anymore.

With a kiss to her chubby cheek, I whisper, "Sleep tight, big girl."

"Love you, Mommy," Ali mumbles, already on her way to dream land.

"I love you too, Squirt." I run my fingers through her soft black hair and marvel at just how beautiful she is. I shouldn't be surprised, she's Callie's daughter. But still…

When I get back downstairs I find a barefoot Callie up to her elbows in soapy dishwater. Her hair is up and out of her face, exposing that delicious neck that I can't get enough of; the gentle slope, her perfect complexion… And the way she fills out her jeans just right- curves to die for. I can't keep my hands to myself. They somehow find their way to my wife's hips while my lips hum against that caramel flesh of her neck.

"Everything good?" Callie asks while I nuzzle her from behind.

"Mmhmm," I hum. My lips press a soft kiss at that soft spot just behind her ear. "Asleep before she hit the pillow. And don't worry about the dishes, Calliope. I can get them in the morning."

"No, it's alright," she replies. "You and Ali made a delicious dinner. The least I can do is clean up."

After an attempt to assist, and a hip check that pushes me away from the towel I was reaching for, I grab a beer from the fridge and hop up on to the kitchen counter to watch. Callie fills me in on her day at work; all the new interns who are trying to kill their patients, fighting with the new board members who know absolutely nothing about medicine and treating patients as patients and not as piggy banks, and how she'd readily sacrifice her best resident if it meant getting Bandy back to Seattle. It's all pretty much the same as it has been for months. Some new investor has bought out the place and has turned it on its head, in turn leaving all nurses and doctors struggling to adapt to new policies and procedures.

"Anyway, that was my day," Callie sighs heavily. "What'd you and the little one do?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Went to the park, fed the ducks, played on the swings. Raced around the aisles of the grocery store. Swung by a strip club on the way home. _Possibly _contracted chlamydia from a very questionable hooker named Tonya. And that was all before noon."

"Wow. Busy day." Callie pretends to think, then says, "I didn't know strip joints opened before noon."

"Oh yeah." I take a swig of my beer. "They serve a mean breakfast buffet. I mean, sometimes you find glitter in the eggs, but that just makes it more festive."

Brown eyes roll in amusement and Callie unstops the sink. "I suppose I shouldn't ask how our four year old got past the bouncers, huh?"

"Fake I.D.," I answer smoothly.

Callie dries herself off with a dish towel then squeezes herself between my knees. "Always knew you'd be a great mom," she plays.

"I _am_ a natural, aren't I?"

That deep, throaty chuckle that I just love spills from those lips, and I find myself drawn to them. My hands gently cup the base of her skull, and with her head tipped up towards me, my lips ghost just out of reach of hers.

"I did talk to Travis today," I whisper, and get only a hum in response. "I'm gonna have to fly out there in the next week or so. I shouldn't need to stay more than a couple days or so."

"Want me to come?" my wife murmurs against my lips. "I've got a few weeks of leave saved up. It's been a while since we got out of town. Unless… you don't want your wife and baby girl to cramp your style…" I don't even have to answer, and instead close my lips on Callie's. Soft. And slow. Teasing, almost. "Mmm- God, I _really_ like having you home on Wednesday nights," Callie says again.

My jean clad center is now flush with Callie's stomach and I can feel the temperature of our bodies rising with our hunger. Our kiss is no longer soft, or slow. It's needy, and passionate. I use my height advantage to take control and push my tongue between two plump lips. I can still taste her wine from dinner, but what makes core burn with desire is the taste of Callie. Something so uniquely her that I can't describe but drives me insane.

"You know what we haven't done on a Wednesday night in a while?" I groan.

"Way ahead of you, baby," Callie says. She fists the front of my shirt and tugs me off the counter. Our trek out of the kitchen and through the kitchen ping pong's off of walls and furniture. We leave a trail of stripped clothes as we go, and we only part when we reach the stairs.

Mindful of our sleeping daughter just down the hallway, Callie and I stealthily creep across the wooden floorboards to our bedroom. Only then do we dare touch one another again. By now I've rid my wife of her pesky shirt and pants, leaving Callie in merely her bra and panties while I hold the upper hand with an added tank top.

But my tank top and bra are quickly stripped from my body by hungry hands, and I get pushed back onto the mattress with a thud. The next second Callie is on top of me, and a very shapely thigh slips between my legs to provide the most exquisite pressure right where I need it most. Callie's lips nip at my neck, and my fingers deftly remove the bra restraining two heavy, perfect breasts. And as I cup their weight in my hands, kneading them just firmly enough to send pleasure racing through my wife's body, Callie's deep moans fill my mind. Arousal collects between my legs and I'm sure that I'm going to combust if I don't get some kind of relief soon, but Callie isn't moving quickly enough. I try to take the lead but my wife is having none of it, and a strong hand against my flushed chest keeps me firmly planted on my back.

Callie sits back on her knees and takes a moment to survey my work. If the smirk on her face is any indication, she likes what she sees. Me, flushed and glistening, breathing heavily beneath her. The color of her rich brown eyes have darkened and now look nearly as black as the night skies just beyond our windows.

Two fingers hook in the band of my pink boy shorts and pull them slowly from my body. Warm hands then start at my ankles and work their way back up, grazing along every inch of skin in their path. Callie braces herself just over my right shoulder and lowers herself back down on top of me. Her right hand snakes between our bodies and finally she touches me.

I whimper at that first touch, the suddenness of her fingers against my clit like a bolt of lightning ripping straight through me.

"Mmm," Callie growls. "So sensitive." Her fingers become coated in my juices and her ministrations begin to quicken. I try to find a hold on something, anything. The sheets. A pillow. Callie. Anything that will give me what I want.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Callie whispers.

"Fuck- yes!" I whimper when one finger sinks into my heat. A second is added with the next thrust and I plead, "Faster. Please, Calliope. More. Faster."

But she has another idea in mind, and soon that touch of a finger is replaced by the touch of her tongue. And I'm done for. Her softness, her warmth, her strength… There is nothing in the world that can compare to the perfection of Callie's tongue working its wonders on me.

"Yes, baby. Yes. Right there. Oh god-" One hand grips the back of Callie's head, holding her in place, while I use the other to try and anchor myself. My hips move and buck on their own and I know I'm dripping wet, just how Callie likes me.

The room grows hot and the smell of sex hangs in the air. Hair mats against my forehead and sheets stick to my back. I can feel myself getting close. That ball of energy that winds itself up in the pit of my stomach grows bigger and bigger with each flutter of Callie's tongue and with each deep stroke of a deft finger. Just glancing down between my legs and seeing Callie there, lips pressed so intimately against me, nearly sends me over the edge.

"Callie- baby, I'm so close," I whimper, and I feel her fingers inside me strengthen, pushing me closer and closer. "Oh fuck- right there. Right there. Yes. Yes." With one final thrust, and two lips suckling at my clit, my orgasm hits me. That ball of energy snaps and warmth shoots up and down my limbs while every muscle in my body spasms in pleasure. And Callie doesn't stop. Her fingers massage at that sweet spot while her lips continue to nibble at my exposed nub.

It always fades too soon, and when my vision clears enough I look down to see a very smug looking woman staring back up at me.

"Seemed like a good one," Callie goads. And when I try to sit up, to reverse our positions so I can get a taste of my wife's sweet essence, I'm pushed back down. "Nuh-uh," my wife scolds me sternly. "I'm not done with you yet, cowgirl."

Her tongue returns to my hyper-sensitive clit, and I know it's going to be an amazing night.

* * *

AN2: Wooooo sex! I know some of you aren't into the smut, sorry. Can't please everyone, though I do try my damnedest. Alright, next up… our happy family is going to Colorado! Things are gonna start getting good. Ya'll are gonna hate me. ;-)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Hey all. Sorry for the wait. Just couldn't get into the writing groove. Well, that plus my computer going tow up on me. Also, I want to caveat this by saying I had this idea first. Like… I had it while I was finishing up CGAH3. So, I'm no copycatter ;-) Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3

Callie's POV:

It's always an experience coming to Colorado. It's like a whole other world than what I know and have grown up with. In Miami there is always something to do or somewhere to go. If I want to go see a movie at three in the morning, no problem. If I want a piece of pizza at three in the morning, no problem. The only thing you don't see at night are the stars. Not as in 'actors and actresses' stars, but as in the stars in the sky. The lights of Miami drown them out. But in Sparks, Colorado, it's like you can reach out and touch them.

So, during our first night here in Colorado, both Arizona and I got to see that wonder in our daughter's eyes. Ali's never seen the stars like that. Yes, she's been to Colorado before, but she was too little to remember anything. Now, at four years old, she's able to. She's able to comprehend the differences between the sky at home, the bustling city of Seattle, Washington, and the brilliant night sky blanketing Sparks, Colorado.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. When our little girl saw just how many horses Arizona has in her family's stables, and saw the wide open fields just begging to be ridden across, I swear her little brown eyes popped out of her skull. Yes, I've given birth to a country girl at heart. And it couldn't make her Momma any prouder.

Which is why Ali is out with Arizona this morning. It wasn't the plan, but when Arizona got up at the butt crack of dawn, Ali was waiting for her. Decked out in her tiny jeans, her favorite horse shirt, and her cute little cowboy hat, our daughter was ready for the day. She begged and pleaded with both of us, and somehow Ali won. When our girl turns those eyes on there is very little she can't get her way with. So, with a canteen full of coffee and a bottle of juice, Arizona and Ali drove off in a cloud of dust, leaving me alone on the Robbins farm to waste time.

It wasn't all a waste. I did bring some work with me so I made use of the quiet house and got a lot done. It's amazing how well I work without the pitter patter of tiny feet barreling through the house, most of the time followed by a second larger pair of feet just behind her, or the pitter patter of incompetent interns roaming around just outside my office door. Mix that with doing a load of laundry and dusting the loneliness out of the usually empty home, it was 11:30 before I knew it.

A quick twenty minute drive back into town and I pull up in front of Betty's just in time to see Arizona and Travis walking down the street, each with a little one in tow.

From atop her Momma's shoulders Ali waves to me, and I wave back.

"You've got some kind of growth on you, cowgirl," I play. "You should really get that checked out."

"I know. I've tried to get rid of it but the darn thing just won't budge."

I shield my eyes from the sun and smile up at our daughter. "Hmm- well, at least it's cute."

"Really? A little hairy for my tastes, but…" Arizona reaches up to find the soft undersides of Ali's arms and tickles her. And I nearly have a heart attack when I see Ali lean back in her fit of giggles, but Arizona's sure grip on our daughter's feet keeps Ali safe and sound.

"Did you behave for Momma, mija?" I ask our daughter.

"Yes," Ali replies between giggles. "I got to drive a tractor, Mommy!"

"You did?"

"Yep, should have seen her. A natural." Arizona replies proudly. "So, I'll be retiring any day now. I was thinking Spain. We do have your father's house there. …Thoughts?"

"Sangria and bikinis?"

"You know it."

"I'm in."

"Sign me up too!" Travis adds with a smile.

And Arizona sends firm punch right to the man's bicep. "Perv."

"Hey, don't make me kick your ass in front of your wife and youngin', Z," Travis growls while rubbing the sting out of his arm. "Cuz I'll do it. I'll knock the country right out of ya."

The five of us finally make it out from under the hot Colorado sun and into the cool air-conditioned air of Betty's. Travis asks the young, probably high-schooler working her summer job, waitress for the best booth in the place; which isn't much of a choice because there is all of four booths in the tiny local establishment. Arizona and I bookend out little girl between us on one side while Travis slides in behind his, now just under seven years old, daughter.

"No George?" I ask.

"Na," Arizona answers as she grabs two packets of crayons for the girls to color with. "He needed to do a few things before we meet up again after lunch."

We're interrupted when Betty decides to visit us, and Arizona proudly introduces the Sparks legend to Ali. I can still remember Arizona telling me about what it was like when she was young; the big weekends when she and Tim got to come into town and eat here with their parents. Betty has been running Betty's since before Sparks' has had a history, so to see the woman meet the next generation is amazing.

"So what do you think, girlie?" the older woman asks our daughter between the few teeth she still has left. "You like it here?"

"Yeah," Ali answers softly. She knows she's supposed to be polite but around strangers she becomes a bit of a wallflower.

"You a trouble maker like your Ma here?"

"Don't listen to this crazy old woman," Arizona tells Ali. "Your Momma was a saint." Both Betty _and _Travis laugh out loud at this.

"So you're still sticking with the story that your brother was the one who put those cows in Principal Harris's office?" Betty asks with a knowing look.

All it takes is one look for me to know the truth. Those pink lips squeezed tight, that blush settling in dimpled cheeks, those blue eyes not able to hold another's; all signs that point to a guilty Arizona.

"You know Tim," Arizona mumbles, avoiding Betty's gaze. "Always playing with fire."

"Mmhmm," Betty hums. Our food arrives on the arms of our waitress, so with one last look Betty leaves us be.

"So…" I purr into my wife's ear while lean over Ali between us. "Principal Harris?"

"Our high school principal," Travis supplies with a smile. "She was a mean old bitty, that one."

"You put cows in your high school's principal's office?" I ask.

"I was dared. What was I supposed to do, back down?" Arizona asks innocently which makes Travis chuckle.

I cast my gaze across the table and towards Arizona's lifelong friend. "Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that you were a part of this too?"

"Who do you think dared her?" Travis asks, and both he and Arizona bust out laughing.

The rest of lunch passes in a blur of laughter and stories. Apparently the only thing to do in Sparks is to farm, rodeo, drink, and raise hell. And it seems my cowgirl has experience in all the above. Why I ever thought that Arizona was this sweet, innocent little thing, I'll never know. She's been a revel from day one, and I wouldn't want her any other way.

By the time the five of us leave Betty's Ali is dragging and Liz, Travis's little girl, has had enough of shadowing her daddy for the day. Arizona and Travis still have a few hours of work ahead of them, so I offer to take Liz back to the house with Ali and myself. And since Ali and Liz have become fast friends, both girls are very happy with the arrangement.

The rest of my afternoon is spent watching the two little ones. And because Ali is such a big girl, she doesn't want to take her nap. …Even though she can barely keep her eyes open. But they both end up passing out on the floor not even halfway through the DVD they are watching. Which is what Arizona and Travis find when they get back at just after three. And then nap time is over.

It takes mere minutes for Travis to get the girls wound up again, and soon Arizona is kicking the lot of them out of the house for fear of breaking one of her family's valuables.

"You get everything done today?" I ask Arizona as we sit on the back porch and watch our daughter romp and play. Some kind of cross between football and tag has unfolded, and now Travis is wildly chasing both girls around the plush grass, each one squealing in the way only little girls can.

"Most of it," Arizona groans while stretching her aching left leg out and wrapping her arm across the back of the porch swing and around my shoulders. "We're supposed to get a pretty good storm tonight so- you know people, always have to make the small talk. I think I had the same conversation a dozen times today."

Travis finally catches up to our daughter and hauls her up into his strong arms. We watch as black hair gets spun around in circles, Ali squealing in delight the entire time. And when she gets set down, she giggles incessantly as she tries to walk with her dizziness.

"You know, I've been thinking…" Arizona muses after we've been watching the scene unfold for a good half hour.

"Well that's never safe," I play. "What about?"

"About that conversation you and I had, oh… two, two and a half years ago."

"You're gonna have to help me out, cowgirl."

"You know, the one about waiting until I was done with school to talk about having another baby." She pauses for a moment, her eyes turning to meet mine. "You remember?"

"Yeah," I reply in only but a whisper and I'm sure that the pounding of my heart drowns it out.

"Well… I'm done with school," Arizona says.

"Yes, you are," I say.

"So?" She asks.

And I don't even need to think about it. "Yes."

The smile that appears on my wife's face is breathtaking. "Yeah? So then… we're talking about-"

"No," I interrupt. "I wasn't- Not talking… I want to have another baby with you. I don't need to talk about it, or think about it. …Do you?"

"Not at all," Arizona replies softly. She closes the few inches between us and gently presses her lips against mine. "So we're having a baby?"

"We're having a baby." My fingers tangle in soft, blonde hair and my lips seek hers again. I can feel her excitement seeping through her kiss and I know she can feel mine. I've wanted another baby for so long, pretty much since Ali was off the boob, but timing just wasn't right. My wife was up to her eyeballs with school and her company, and I was still trying to tread water as the new Head of Orthopedics. When Ali was walking and talking, we talked about having a second, but it wouldn't have been fair. Not to Ali, not to the baby.

But now? Now… it's perfect. And I don't care how it happens. I just want it to happen.

"So, when we get back to Seattle we'll-" The rest of Arizona's sentence never comes because out of nowhere a football nails her right in the chest. It takes us both a moment to realize what happened, but once the blonde sees her friend ten yards out with a shit eating grin on his face it's all over.

Moving faster than she has in years, Arizona bolts from the porch, over the railing, and gives chase. …Ali and Liz joining in as well.

"Yep," I sigh. "That's the mother of my children."

When Travis and Arizona are nearly dead from exhaustion, everyone comes in out of the sun and refreshes with a big glass of iced tea. And while my wife chats aimlessly with her friend I take a moment to just look at her. The lightness in her shoulders, the shine in her bright blue eyes. Two days of working under the sun has given her skin that glow I just love on her, and I don't think her dimples fade for a minute. She beautiful. Gorgeous. And, if it's possible, I love her even more today than I did yesterday.

A knock on the back door and the conversations stall. Since I'm closest, I open the door.

"Hey, Cal," The brunette says warmly. "Is Z here?"

I don't answer the woman, and instead just back up to let her in the house.

"What's up, Katie?" Arizona asks.

Katie McKenzie, also known as Arizona's ex. She's been working for my wife for years. Of course, considering her past actions towards Arizona, she started on a probationary basis. But apparently Katie has learned her lesson, turned a new leaf, seen the light- whatever tired cliché you want to use- because now she pretty much oversees the Robbins farm and all is well. The farm is running smooth and the land is being kept up; which was one of the biggest worries Arizona had when Barbara moved to Portland to be with Jose, she didn't want the home that's been in her family for years to just go under. So I've tried to take Arizona's lead and let bygones be bygones, but there's just a part of me that will never be able to trust the woman fully.

"-coming by next week to take a look at it," Katie finishes. I realize I didn't catch any of her conversation with Arizona because I was too busy staring daggers into the woman's back.

Liz and Ali come running back into the kitchen, and Katie's mouth drops. "Oh my- Z?! This can't be your little girl," she says sweetly. "She's absolutely gorgeous." Arizona just smiles proudly and watches as her ex kneels down to our daughter. "Hi, Ali. My name's Katie, it's nice to meet you. Your Momma tells me you just _love _horses. Is that true?"

"Mmhmm," Ali hums while keeping a grip on Arizona's leg for comfort. "I has my own horsey."

"You do? What's his name?"

"Ariel."

"Ariel?! That's an awesome name!" Katie exclaims which makes Ali smile her toothy smile. "You know what, kid? I like you. Maybe the next time you come visit you and I can go for a ride. If your moms say it's alright, of course."

They seal the deal with a quick high five and then Ali retreats to the safety of the living room.

Standing back up, Katie looks towards my wife and says, "You got a good one there, Z."

"Don't have to tell me," Arizona replies, sending a sultry wink my way. And with a smile Katie heads back out the door and towards the stables to continue with her responsibilities.

Travis and Liz head out soon afterwards. The skies have already darkened and a front can be seen creeping closer and closer. It's like one of those National Geographic pictures; on one side is clear and bright, and the other dark and foreboding.

"Looks like a bad one," I mumble, eyes turned up western sky.

"About time," Arizona replies. "We've been needing rain for weeks."

A tiny hand finds its way into mine and I look down to find our daughter clinging to me. She hates storms- which is kind of ironic because she was born during one and most likely conceived during one- and becomes very clingy and anxious when one is brewing. I can't count the number of times Arizona and I have woken up to an added third in our bed the morning after a bad storm back in Seattle.

So Arizona and I do what Arizona and I do when a storm is brewing. We distract our daughter. Instead of letting her worry about the growing winds and thundering skies outside, we make her laugh and giggle inside. We cook us up some hotdogs and have a picnic on the living room floor. And when Ali asks to watch Shrek for about the ten thousandth time, we pop it in and snuggle together on the couch; Ali in my lap on one end, Arizona with a small pile of work in her lap at the other.

"Did you have fun today, mija?" I ask while the previews roll on the TV screen.

"Mmhmm," Ali hums while chomping on a popcorn kernel.

"Did you like playing with Liz?" Arizona asks from the opposite end of the corner.

"Yeah," Ali smiles. "She's my best friend. Can she come home with us?"

"No, baby, she can't. She lives here," I answer. "But maybe Liz and Uncle T can come visit sometime."

I catch a look in Arizona's eyes, the look she has when she's thinking about something, and then she asks, "What do you think about being a big sister, Squirt? Would you like that? Having a little brother or sister around to play with?"

"No," Ali replies without batting an eye.

"No?" I ask in surprise.

"Can I have a puppy instead?"

"You'd rather have a puppy than a baby brother or sister?" Arizona asks. "Why?"

"Cuz babies smell icky," Ali answers before shoveling another handful of popcorn in her mouth. And the way she says it, so matter of fact and logical, makes both Arizona and myself chuckle. Both of us knew that if and when we had another child that Ali would take some time coming around to it. Being the only child fits her tastes quite nice. …Sharing has never really been her strong point.

So we let the issue go for the night and continue on with the movie. A loud crash of thunder rips through the sky so strongly that I feel it in my chest, but the movie is doing its job and Ali barely flinches. And before Shrek can bring Princess Fiona back to Far Far Away, our daughter is sleeping soundly in my lap, but we let the movie play anyway.

Another crash of thunder, along with a strike of lightening flashing through the windows, brings a knock to the back door. With a quick look to Ali and myself, Arizona stands and unlocks the back door which allows a soaked and dripping Katie McKenzie into the house.

"Katie, what are you-"

"I know, I'm sorry," she interrupts my wife. "I was on my way home but I couldn't see two feet in front of me with the rain." Through the open door behind her I can see the sheets of rain coming down sideways. "I know it's a lot to ask but- can I stay here for the night?"

"Uh-" Arizona peeks over her shoulder to me for a split second, then answers, "Yeah. Yeah, of course you can." Another strike of lightening immediately followed by it's scream of thunder makes us all jump. "Shit- that was close."

I gently move Ali to the couch and stand to join the two women now out on the porch. I don't think I've ever seen it rain as violently as it is right now- and I've lived in both Miami and Seattle, places known for their storms.

"The radio said there's a tornado watch in effect," Katie says. "At least, while I was still getting a signal…"

Rain quickly turns to hail, the blackness of the skies lighten to a grayish-green. The air is literally charged, and I can feel the power of the earth tingling through my body.

"You feel that?" Arizona asks in a tone that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "That's not good." A howling sound fills the air, almost like a freight train barreling past you at speed. A sound that makes my stomach drop. "What the hell…"

The three of us step out from beneath the porch and seek out the source of this hair-raising sound. While being pelted with hail we walk up the drive just enough to see around the house.

"Should I run down to the stables and-" But Katie never finishes her sentence because another flash of lightening paralyzes us all. A tornado, as wide as we can see, fills the horizon.

"There's no time," Arizona says. "It's coming straight for us."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4

Arizona's POV:

"There's no time. It's coming straight for us."

There's no time to think. There's barely time to act.

My eyes lock instantly with Callie's and I know the same thought races through our minds. Ali. We need to get to her, and we need to get to cover.

We run into the house, my wife first and I hot on her tail, and make a beeline for the couch.

"She's not here," Callie cries. "She's not here! I left her right here!"

The bitter taste of panic and adrenaline taints the back of my mouth.

"ALI! Ali, where are you!" I yell. I start to run through the bottom floor while Callie takes the stairs two at a time. My heart feels like it's going to pound out of my chest, and yet I don't know if I take a single breath. The howl of the tornado grows louder and louder, and I can almost feel the house start to give way.

Through the kitchen and into my father's den, and still no Ali.

"Christ, where is she?" I whisper. If I can't find my daughter then there is no reason for me to seek shelter. I wouldn't want to live in a world that didn't have Ali.

But that line of thinking is quickly abandoned when I hear Callie yell, "I got her!" Her feet barely touch the stairs as she carries our daughter down in her arms, tears streaming from Ali's eyes and in her hands clutched a yellow stuffed giraffe.

Winds batter the house and it groans under the pressure. A flying object finds a window and glass shatters. Ali's crying can't be heard over the roar of the tornado and the sighing of a hundred year old structure.

With Ali's face held protectively to my wife's chest, I led us out of the house and the side to the storm cellar. The tornado seems to have deviated a little, and looks to be heading off across the side of my property. For a minute I think we might be spared, that my family's land and home will live to see another sunrise, but it takes a mere shift of the wind to right its course. I can actually see it turn, like there is some kind of evil driver is steering it towards us.

The cellar doors are old and rusted. I can't remember the last time they were even opened. But I get them opened, and Ali protests just as fiercely about descending into darkness as she is about the storm taking place around us.

"Get in," I say, pushing my wife and child in first while my eyes look for another. Katie's disappeared. I thought she had followed me and Callie into the house, but she was never there.

"Where is she?" I ask myself.

"Arizona, get in here," Callie commands me. I can hear the terror thick in her voice.

But there's still time. It hasn't hit us yet, which means there is still time.

"KATIE!" I yell, but it's of no use. I might as well be whispering.

I think I see her in the distance, but dust and debris is being kicked up by powerful winds and I can't be sure. "KATIE!" I call again. I take a step towards her, to help her, and a hand grips my wrist like a bear trap.

I look down into the storm cellar and find Callie, eyes wide, with her knuckles going white from her grip on me. "Don't."

"Callie-"

"No," my wife says even more firmly.

The tornado is almost upon us. Its roar so loud that it feels like my eardrums may give any moment. Rain and hail have now been replaced by other flying objects. Rocks, shards of broken glass; I even see our mailbox with the painted on 'Robbins' go soaring by. We're out of time and I have to keep my family safe, so with one last look for Katie I start to close off the cellar.

Then I hear her.

"Wait!" It's faint first, so faint that I think I've imagined it.

"Arizona, what the hell are you doing?! There's no time. You have to close it!" Callie says from behind me. All the while Ali is crying her little eyes out and calling for her Momma.

"Wait! Z, wait! I'm coming!" It's Katie. Through the dust and dirt her outline becomes clearer, her small frame battling against the strength of growing winds.

"Come on!" I yell back at her. A chuck of roof gets ripped right off the house and gets sucked up into the vortex of the storm, nearly taking Katie with her.

She's a mere five yards from the cellar when a stray hubcap comes flying out of nowhere and hits her upside the head. Even in the roar of the tornado I head the contact of metal and skull, and Katie collapses just out of reach.

"Stay here," I tell Callie, then bolt up and out of the cellar to Katie's side. She's not knocked out but if this were a cartoon I would be able to see little birds fluttering about her head.

I can feel the strength of the tornado sucking me in and I know this is it. If I don't make it to cover I'm not going to see tomorrow. My wife and child will find my body in some stripped field a mile down the road, if they find me at all. That's not something I'm prepared to let happen. I find two handfuls of Katie's shirt and I drag her back with all my might, over the concrete lip and down the sharp cellar stairs. A ten foot piece of fence slams into the house just above us and shattered wood and glass rains down upon myself and Katie. As soon as her boots clear the doorway I slam the doors shut, barring them closed with a heavy wrought iron rod.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I spit to the still disorientated woman.

"I had to save them," Katie coughs.

"Two more seconds you would have been gone and you would have taken me with you." I pull her away from the door and sit her back against a corner while I turn to my family. I can see my wife biting her tongue, and our daughter is beyond distraught.

Minutes creep by and all we can do is sit there and listen. Listen to the ferocity of Mother Nature tear the land apart. I try not to think about what is happening, I try not to picture my great-grandfather's home being ripped apart at the nails. I try not to let the thought of losing all that I had left of my brother and father to this storm sink into my mind. Bu that's a hard thing to do when all there is is to wait.

"It's alright, baby girl," I whisper to Ali. She's clinging to Callie's top as if at any moment she may ripped away from her parents. "Shhh, it's alright. We're safe, baby girl. We're just going to hang out down here for a while and when we get out it'll be over, ok? You're alright, Ali."

Something hammers into the cellar door and it makes all four of us jump. Ali's cries strengthen and her voice ricochets around the concrete enclosure like a ping pong. The noises we hear… I can't describe them. Metal buckling and ripping, wood snapping, glass shattering, feeling the earth literally vibrate when something big and heavy comes crashing down; everything this storm touches it destroys with vengeance.

And then, as quickly as it seemed to come, everything quiets. The roaring disappears and the only noise that is left are my daughter's tears running from her eyes. The air has grown thick and heavy from our ragged breath, and it clings to me.

"You think it's safe?" Katie asks first.

No one answers, because no one knows. Another minute passes where we just listen. Even Ali's cries have waned to a mere sniffle and an occasional hiccup.

I'm the first to rise to my feet, and I slowly move towards the barred wooden cellar doors. I free the iron rod and push. They give easily and I step right out into the night.

"It's clear," I call back to my family. With a hand I help Callie up out of the darkness, Ali still clutched against her side, as well as assist a shaken Katie to her feet.

"Are you alright?" I ask my wife and daughter. I take both their faces in my hands and pull them close. "It's alright, we- we're ok."

I look back at Katie, now doubled over with her hands braced against her knees. "Katie, you ok?"

"I think I'm going to throw up," she groans.

"Just aim it away from me."

Then I look. And the wind is knocked right out of me.

What used to be my family's home is now torn in half. The roof has been stripped clean off it, and a tractor trailer has pulverized what once was the kitchen, living room, and den. Walls have been ripped from the studs and the top cap of one of my silos is now lodged right where Tim's and my rooms used to be.

"Oh god…" Now it's my turn to be sick. And the sound of Katie retching just twenty feet off doesn't help matters any.

"Arizona." I hear my wife saying my name but I just can't manage to zero in on her. It's like I'm hearing her from underwater. "Arizona. …Arizona, take a breath. That's it- breathe."

Slowly the world comes into focus again. "It came from the West, which means it hit town first. We need to- There will be others, and they might need our help." I can't think about me right now, there's nothing I can do here. But Sparks, Colorado isn't a town of individuals. No, we're a family. Sometimes that's the only way we can survive, and one of those times is now.

So I race back down into the cellar and pull the supplies that were stashed there long ago. A case of water, some canned food, flashlights, blankets, four ancient hand-held short wave radios; but most importantly, a first aid kit. Callie takes it without question, and while she gives Katie a once over I set to uncovering a truck. Mine has been smashed, but for some reason Katie's Ram truck was spared. Its front windshield has been blown out by a fence post plunging right through it, but still it lives.

"She alright?" I ask Callie as we're loading up.

"She'll be fine," my wife replies. "Just a bump on the head. Nausea, dizziness; it'll pass."

We all pile into the cab of the truck and take off down the gravel drive. Debris and wreckage is littered everywhere, even a few items that I know belong miles and miles away from here. A painted white 'P' against a dark purple tile could have only come from one place- Pop's Place.

The road is deserted, almost eerie feeling. It's as if we've stumbled right into some kind of post-apocalyptic movie. Katie messes with the radios as we go, trying to get in contact with anyone in a 50 mile radius.

"Mayday mayday mayday, this is Katie McKenzie reaching out to persons unknown. We're incoming from the Robbins farm, all accounted for. Is anyone listening, over?" All she gets back is static, and so she tunes the radio in to the next channel and repeats.

Ten miles down the road and we pass by an upturned Ford truck.

"Isn't that…" Katie mumbles.

"T's." I bring our truck to a stop and bolt from the driver's seat. The dirtied silver grey wreck is more a pancake than anything else. If someone were in it when it was picked up, they'd be nothing but a smear on the concrete.

The next minute I'm back in the Ram. "Empty," I answer the unspoken question. I kick the truck into drive and burn rubber. Another mile down the road I come to the Wait farm turnoff, and I take it. We literally go off road to get around downed trees and sparking power lines. Off in the distance, where my best friend's house used to be, there's nothing.

We pull up in front of what, only an hour ago, was their front porch. Now it's just a mass of splintered planks and mutilated memories.

"Travis!" I call out. "T! Travis!" The eerie silence makes me nauseated. "Hello?! Anyone?!" I circle the demolished home, praying that I don't find what I'm looking for- a stray limb sticking out from beneath the rubble.

"Z! Over here!" Katie yells. I race to the other side of the house, my stomach still knotted. "Listen," She says. "It's coming from under there." Layers upon layers of debris have fallen atop what I can only assume is the Wait's storm cellar.

"Give me a hand with this."

Callie stands back with Ali while Katie and I work to uncover the cellar doors. I can tell Katie is hurting but she pushes through it, and within minutes we have the doors clear. And when they open we find Travis's wife and little girl, but no Travis.

"Are you guys ok?" I ask, helping the mother out. "Where's T?"

"I-I…" Elaine looks like she's about to fall apart. Her eyes are redder than her daughter's, and all the color has drained from her face. "I don't know. When it came he said he'd meet us at the cellar but… he never- He didn't- I couldn't wait any longer. I had to close it."

"He could be anywhere," Callie says loud enough for only me to hear.

"We have to look though. We have to try." From the truck I grab two radios and pass them to Katie and Elaine. "Ali, sweetie, you stay with Liz and Mrs. Wait while Momma and Mommy go look for Uncle T. Katie, go check down by the barn. He may have tried to free the horses before he got caught. Callie and I will take the truck and do a sweep of the property. If anyone finds anything, use channel 7 to radio it in."

Our search doesn't take long. From the bed of the truck I spot an arm sticking out from beneath a road sign not forty yards from where we started. I pound against the roof of the cab and Callie brings the Ram to a halt. The next second both of us are out of the truck and at Travis's side.

Two fingers touch the inside of his limp wrist. "He's alive," Callie says and a weight lifts from my chest. "His pulse is weak but he's still got one. We have to get this stuff off him."

We make quick work of pulling away the highway sign and revealing the injured man. And that weight falls right back down on my shoulders.

Travis is sprawled out on his back, caked with mud and soaked through, and his eyes are closed. His breathing is ragged, but that's not the worst of it. The iron stake sticking out from his abdomen is the worst.

"Oh god…" I feel my world tip.

But Callie doesn't waste a second. She's down on her knees next to him, ear pressed to his chest. "He's got a collapsed lung," Callie says quickly. Her fingers run the length of his neck. "Tracheal deviation to the right, which means it's his left lung."

"There's a- the stake- it's-"

"I need to re-inflate his lung," Callie says to herself as she rifles through the small first aid kit we have.

All I can do is stand there, utterly helpless. "But- what about the stake. It's just-"

"If I don't get him breathing the stake won't make a god damn difference," Callie snaps. "Fuck, there's nothing in this kit." She pulls out band aids and gauze and medical tape, all the things that comprise a standard first aid kit, but nothing close to what she needs. "Damn it, come on… something." Then she pulls out a bottle of hand sanitizer. "This-this will work. It'll have to do." Callie uncaps it and pulls the straw from its bottle. "Arizona, please tell me you have your pocket knife on you."

But I'm just frozen, staring at my best friend while he slowly loses his grip on life.

"Arizona!" Callie barks, bringing me back. "Pocket knife." She snatches it from my hand and wipes the blade with some antibacterial gel.

"You do see that thing poking out of him, right?" I ask, now on my knees as well. "I mean- you're gonna do something about that, right?"

"That stake is keeping Travis alive right now, Arizona," Callie says, ripping her patient's shirt and exposing his chest. "If it's removed he'll start bleeding… and I won't get him to stop." Her fingers examine Travis's chest, feeling between each of his ribs on his left side. "I'm going to need you to hold him down."

"But he's unconscious."

"He won't be for long." Brown eyes look up when I don't move, and my wife says, "I'm serious, Arizona. Hold him down. This is going to hurt. _A lot._"

I position myself above Tim, my hands on his shoulders, while Callie readies her blade.

And then she cuts.

Blood runs down from Travis's chest and I can feel him slowly start to surface. "He's waking up."

"I haven't even started yet," Callie says, wiping the blood from the superficial incision. "You got to keep him still, Arizona. I'm serious. The more he moves the more damage he's going to do to himself. You got to keep him still." I reposition myself to where my knees are keeping Travis's shoulders in place and my hands have his wrists planted to the ground. "Ready?" Callie asks, and all I can do is nod.

With that Callie slices through even more flesh and muscle, which brings Travis back to life. He's confused, and scared, and in a world of pain. I try to calm him but he doesn't hear me. The man fights, bucking like a raging bull, but I keep on him.

"Hold him," Callie says, readying the tube at the incision. "This is going to hurt."

A short thrust and the tube plunges into Travis's heart. His breathing eases but pain rips through him like a shot of lightening. He bucks so hard that he nearly throws me, but both Callie and I strain to keep him contained. Once he stabilizes and the shock passes Travis falls back to barely conscious.

"He won't stay stable for long," Callie says. By now the others have joined us and Katie is holding back Liz and Ali while Elaine sobs at her husband's side. "We need to get him somewhere where I can open him up."

"The middle and high school," Katie says from a few feet back. "That's where everyone will be going if it hasn't been destroyed."

"How far is that?" Callie asks.

"Fifteen minutes, maybe." I answer.

She checks Travis's pulse once more, and places her ear against his chest. "We gotta make it ten."

Not another second is wasted. We get a blanket under Travis and, using all four of us, we lift him into the bed of the truck. Callie, Katie, and Elaine stay in the back while Ali and Liz ride in the cab with me. With the go ahead from my wife, I drop the truck into drive and tear out of the Wait property, hoping beyond hope that Travis isn't about to join my brother and my father on the other side.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Sorry for the wait. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 5

Callie's POV

"How much longer?"

"Just a couple miles," Arizona answers from the driver's seat. "How's he doing?"

My fingers find the inside of Travis's wrist again. "He's hanging in there but the sooner we get him inside somewhere the better." I feel the truck beneath us speed up, and when I look through the back window I can see the white in my wife's knuckles gripping the steering wheel. We're alone out here on this country road; a two-laned road littered with nothing but leaves, branches, and the occasional item of living room furniture.

"He's going to be ok, right?" Elaine asks from the other side of Travis. "He's-he's not going to- You can save him, right? You're going to get that… thing out of him?"

"I'm going to do my very best," I answer softly. I can't lie to the woman, I don't know what I'm up against. If I had Travis in a stocked sterile operating room it'd be a piece of cake. But the man's chest tube is the straw from a hand sanitizer bottle. I had to use my wife's old, dirty pocket knife! I'm not working in optimal conditions here, and that always means a higher risk of casualties.

The radio in Katie's hand crackles to life.

"Hello? Hello? Anyone listening? Hello?"

"Yes!" Katie replies. "Yes, we're here. Who's this?"

"Jared Abbott," the staticy voice replies.

"This is Katie McKenzie. East of town got hit bad. I'm incoming with Arizona. Travis is injured. He has…" Her eyes turn to the bloodied man in the bed of the truck who's struggling to breathe, and I can see green settle in her face. "He's bad. He's really bad. We're heading to the schools now."

"Don't!" Jared barks through the radio. "The schools-" Static breaks up his message.

"What?" Katie yells back. "The schools, what? Say again."

"It's a mess. Lines are down. Pipes have burst. Half of the gym's roof is gone. Completely. There's no way."

"Damn it," Arizona growls from the driver's seat. I know the only thing keeping her half way contained right now are the two terrified little girls strapped unlawfully in the front seat of the truck. She gestures for the radio and brings it to her lips. "Jared, this is Arizona. Look, we need to find somewhere. Are you in town yet?"

"Nearly."

"Ok, here's what I need you to do. You get there as quick as you can and you find somewhere, _anywhere_ we can get in to. I don't care if it's someone's kitchen. Travis is hurt bad and I'm sure he's not the only one. People are going to start coming and needing help."

Jared acknowledges his orders and the radio goes silent yet again.

I check Travis's vitals one more time, then shuffle my way closer to the rear window.

"Arizona-"

"I know, Callie," My wife says through clenched jaws. I'm sure the only things keeping her calmed and quiet right now are the two sets of innocent ears riding shotgun.

"Tell me there's a family physician's office in town," I say.

"There was," Katie answers quietly. "But Dr. Lindley retired like… 4 months ago. He's gone and moved to Florida. We're all stuck going up the road to Dr. Kirchner's in Broomfield until we get another one around here."

"Fuck," Arizona growls.

"But there's still an office, right? Which means exam rooms and medical equipment." I'm trying. I'm trying to find some way to make all this work. But it seems that every card has been stacked against us right now.

By some miracle the next ten miles come and go with Travis hanging on, and the trucks headlights light up the welcome sign reading 'Sparks'. And we're not the first to arrive. Dazed and confused people shuffle amongst the wreckage, not really believing what has happened to their lives. Most walk, but a few have loaded up in whatever kind of vehicle they can find, and now Sparks has its first ever traffic jam. In comparison to Arizona's and Travis's farms, the town got off easy. Its one main road, with a few streets branching off with new expansions, has been split. Almost right down the center line. One side of the street stands, while the other side has been flattened.

Through a quick radio message about two miles out, Jared told us that some kind of relief shelter has been set up at the town's library. A white flag with a red cross has been quickly hung from its windows, and through its doors a steady stream of people walk. And right next door, with its doors also open and people walking through, sits a quaint building with a sign that reads 'Sparks Veterinary Hospital'.

Arizona lays on the horn, parting the sea of homeless and distraught, and brings the truck to a stop right in front of the vet entrance. There's already people waiting, ready to lend a hand in unloading the now unconscious man and carry him inside.

"Ali, Liz, you girls stay close, you hear," Arizona tells them as she helps them down from the passenger's seat. "Hold each other's hand and don't wander off."

Elaine has already followed her husband, and I quickly join the commotion inside. When I said it was a small building I wasn't lying. A waiting room big enough for maybe ten to sit, a receptionists desk, the vet's office, an exam room, and an operating room in back are all that make up this place which has turned into Sparks only center for medical attention. Everywhere I look there is someone bleeding, or crying, or holding an injured limb close. And the smell… It smells like metal that's been bathed in human pain and suffering.

Arizona and I push through the mass of waiting patients. At the sight of my wife they cry out, asking for help, asking what she knows or if she's seen their loved one. But all she can do is say 'I'm sorry, I don't know.' Ali starts to cry out of fright, and she readily clings to her Momma when Arizona picks her up.

"It's alright, squirt," Arizona whispers. "It's alright. Momma's here, baby."

Finally through the waiting room, and the very full exam room where several people are waiting with open and bleeding wounds, we get to the back where Travis is laid atop the steel operating table. He's being checked out by a man I've never seen before, but the sight of his white coat is like a god send.

"How's he doing?" I ask while making a bee line for the sink to wash my hands.

"Uh, he's doing alright, I guess- who are you?" He asks, then peeks over his shoulder to find my wife standing beside Travis's tear-stricken wife. "Arizona- I heard Travis was hurt, but Jesus…"

"What kind of supplies do we have here?" I ask while beginning a fuller exam of Travis's injuries. I've already gotten him set up with an IV but all that is is a band aid over a bullet hole. …Or stake hole, as it were.

"It's an up and running animal hospital," the man answers. "I got some stuff here. I don't know if the old Dr. Lindley's place has any supplies left over but I've sent some guys to look if it's not destroyed."

"Wait, you don't- but… you're not a physician?" I ask.

"No," he replies. "I'm Dr. Russell Keen. D.V.M."

A beat passes.

"You're the vet," I state, and he just nods. "Christ- ok, Travis needs films of lower right quadrant. I'm not pulling that thing until I know if it's hitting anything. At this point it might be best that we just keep him stable until the real help arrives. And, uh… what else- who else is there that could possibly help us out. There's at least forty people outside that door needing medical attention and I can't see them all myself. I mean, did Lindley have a staff of nurses? Do you? We just need people who can debride and suture."

"We can scrounge a few up, I'm sure." Russell replies.

Just as the last word is leaving his lips shouting comes from behind the closed operating room door. Arizona is the first through, followed by Dr. Keen and myself. A group of four men are carrying yet another body in on bloodied sheets, yelling at those taking up space to move out of the way.

"Right here!" Russell yells over the din, clearing his one exam table of debris left over from a long forgotten suturing.

"He's not breathing!" One of the carriers says. "We tried but-"

I strip my bloodied gloves and grab a fresh pair. "How long?"

"I-I-I don't- We just found him. I don't know how long."

I search for a pulse but find none. The touch of his skin is cool, and I already know. But we try anyway. Russell grabs the AED he has stashed in his office, and after sticking the two shock pads to the man's chest, I call clear and give his silent heart a shock. Not a sound is heard through the stethoscope, so I increase the charge and shock him again.

"Anything?" One of the guys asks, and by now the exam room is bursting at it seams with onlookers.

I listen again.

"No," I reply. "Nothing. …Time of death; 23:01."

A wave of grief floods the crowd as the news passes to those behind them, and I turn to my wife with her head buried in her hands.

"Hey," I whisper, my hand softly. "I'm sorry. Did you know him?"

"Not well, no," Arizona sighs. "He was the mayor." I don't think I've ever seen her look as tired and worn down as she does now, and I've seen her through a lot.

More people push their way into the room, trying to catch a glimpse at their late mayor, but finally Russell finds a sheet to cover the body. We don't know where to put him, so we leave him. We don't know anything. As each minute passes it becomes clearer and clearer that we're just a bunch of chickens running around with our heads cut off.

Arizona is on the same wavelength as I am, because she soon selects a handful of people and brings them to the back room where I have Travis set up.

"Ok, we need a plan or strategy or… something," Arizona says. "With Mayor Green… People need help. Our people. So, we have to figure out how to help them. Shelter, food, water, and medical. That's what we need to get ironed out right." And, like always, everyone falls right in line with her. "Callie? What do you need?"

"I…" I take a deep breath and glance towards the operating table with Travis laid out on it, his wife right by his side. "I need hands. I cannot see everyone myself, not as quickly as they'd need to be seen. I need hands here to help me. I need someone to triage, to separate the worst from the rest so I can see those first. If it's just a scrape or cut that needs cleaned and sewed up then Dr. Keen can handle that. But we need help here to keep people moving. Worst in the back, those with… fractures or deep wounds we can stick in the exam room, and everyone else we'll keep out front. If we can find some nurses then they can start cleaning out wounds."

"Ok, good. This is good. We can- we can do this. Ok, next thing…"

Our meeting is interrupted not too soon after by someone nearly tearing the door off its hinges.

"Outside," Katie says. "You gotta come outside. They're- They heard about the Mayor and now… You gotta come outside."

"Now what?" Arizona groans.

We quickly follow Katie out of the backroom and through the waiting area, which is only half full anymore. And it only takes one look to see where everyone went. I've never been in a riot before, but I can only imagine that this is how it starts. It seems as if all of Sparks has poured out onto Main Street seeking help, seeking guidance, only to have been told that their leader perished from the same storm that has ripped their lives apart only hours ago.

Someone from the crowd sees us walking out of the Vet's office, and they shout, "Is it true? Is he dead?" Question after question is thrown towards us, each voice crippled with loss, hurt, and anger. And because we have no good answer to give, the crowd grows more anxious. And more dangerous.

So Arizona acts. Just as she always has. She puts herself between the threat and her family.

"Hey!" She cries, trying to quiet the storm. But no one is listening. So she jumps up into the bed of the same truck we brought Travis in, and tries again. "Hey! Listen! Listen to me!" The yelling fades one voice at a time until its quiet.

"It's true what you've heard. …Mayor Green was found in the wreckage of his home, and he couldn't be revived." She lets the news settle for a moment, then continues. "Look, I know… I know we're all scared right now. And a little lost. God knows I am, but we can't let that fear cripple us. I know it's late, and it's dark. And you've got your families without homes, and kids without beds. But we need to remain calm, because we need you. _I _need you. Any able bodied hand that can, we need your help. There's a lot to do here, and most important is to make sure everyone is accounted for. Jared Abbot and I will be making up teams that will go out and check **each **and** every **home for survivors that may be trapped or hurt. If you can help us, if you can spare us a truck or a radio or gas, please do so."

"If you require medical attention, Dr. Torres and Dr. Keen will do what they can to help you until relief arrives. If you're missing someone, add their name to the list that will placed at the reference desk in the library, as well as their last known locations. We are going to do everything to ensure each and every one is accounted for. And… to those of you whose homes were spared, if you have an empty bed, an empty couch, a spare sleeping back, please… Open your doors to your neighbors. Give them a place to lay their heads."

Her words have calmed the crowd, but still there is an anxious energy floating about. And how can you blame them? Their town has been plundered. In a matter of minutes their worlds have been ripped to shreds.

"This isn't going to be easy," Arizona says after a few seconds. "There is no quick fix to this. It's going to take work. Blood. Sweat. Tears. But I promise you… I promise all of you that we will make it. Because that's who we are. We are fighters, we are cowboys. We are the ones our parents warned us about. We can't be held down. …Knocked down, yes. But not held down. Because our strength and our pride runs deep, and we will overcome this. Together. …Let's get to work."

Arizona doesn't waste another second in the bed of that truck. She hops down and a crowd within the crowd forms about her, all ready to step up and lend a hand. My wife directs them all to Jared to get started, then returns to the porch of the Vet Clinic with Russell, Katie, and myself.

"Where you want me, boss?" Katie asks.

"Uh- Library. For now all we got are the five radios. I need you calling in anyone who might be missing, letting the search teams know." Arizona answers. Her left hand has found its way to her side where it's now massaging the pink scar tissue beneath her shirt, a very sure sign of her rising stress level.

"Arizona," someone calls, and we both look over the blondes shoulder to find an 80-some plus white haired woman hobbling her way over the scattered debris.

"Betty?" Arizona is quick to lend the woman a hand to steady herself. "Are you alright?"

"My husband," Betty says. Even in the low light I can see a sheen of wetness glazing her aged eyes. "He was still at the bar when it hit."

I catch Arizona's glance, and I know exactly what she's thinking. Pop's place, right across the street from Betty's café. Two of Sparks' oldest and greatest legends. And now one still stands while the other is a pile of plaster and plywood.

"I'll take a few guys and go check right now, ok? I promise I'll find him but you need to sit down, you look like you're about to pass out," Arizona says. We help the woman into the vet clinic and sit her down in the last empty chair available. It's filled up yet again, probably even more than before. All these people waiting for me to help them… and all I want to do is hold my daughter and my wife close to me and wait for this all to pass.

"I need to go check on Travis. I don't know if there is anything else I can do for him. If I try and pull that stake…"

"Just do what you can, Calliope." Her voice is soft. And tired. But full of love and trust. "If he, uh…" She blinks back hidden tears while swallowing a lump that magically appeared in her throat. "He'll be fine. He will be." And for both our sakes I don't argue. "Alright, I need to go. Uh, there's a kids area in the library that a couple of the moms are going to watch while everyone is out looking. I'm going to drop Ali and Liz off, see if I can get them to sleep. …They don't need to see any of this." Her hand rests atop our daughter's head, whom is clinging to Arizona's leg with all the strength her little four year old body has.

Then I see it. That lip quiver that signals the start of her emotional unraveling.

"Hey, come here…" I reach out to touch her, to pull her in for a tight hug and never let go.

"No." Arizona takes a step away from me, putting distance between us as if that physical space will lead to emotional space from what's going on around her. "No, I… I can't. You hug me and I'm going to start crying and I won't be able to stop it. I'm sorry but I can't. I can't-"

"Ok," I nod softly. "Ok, cowgirl. It's alright."

A head pops in the front door. "Z, we got four groups ready to go."

"Ok, Jared. I'll be right there." Arizona hoists Ali astride her hip and then says, "Give Mommy a kiss, squirt."

"Come here, mija," I coo. I kiss both of her cheeks and my lips come away with the taste of salt from her tears. "You know I'd come with you, baby, but Mommy needs to play doctor for a little bit. I'll be right next door to you though, so if you need me you find someone to bring you to me, ok? I love you." And she just nods her head yes while clutching her yellow stuffed giraffe.

"And you-" I say, turning my gaze to my wife. "You be careful, cowgirl."

"I will." Our lips meet in a soft kiss, and Arizona leans back in for one more before she whispers, "I love you." One last kiss and she's gone, one girl on her hip and the other being led by her hand, and I'm left in the middle of those bleeding and crying. I take a moment, and breathe. I tell myself that my daughter is safe, and my wife is alright. And then I dive head first into what is going to be the most challenging and most hectic shift I've ever worked in my life.


End file.
